He didn’t expect me to say it.
Not in public, and not so soon.
And he’s looking at me like I just hung the stars.
“Oh my God, that issocute!” a woman says. She turns to her friend and whispers, but not quiet enough that I can’t hear. “Brenna, I told you he was bi. Bisexuals always know, and Iknew.”
It makes me smile.
We stop there for at least fifteen minutes, taking selfies and signing some autographs. And on the way home, Chase pulls me close, kissing me.
“I really liked that,” he says. “You didn’t have to do it, but I liked it.”
“I did too.”
When we get home, Chase turns to me with a thoughtful look in his eye before we get started making smoothies.
“I don’t want to just ignore what some people saw online about me,” he says. “I know the main awful post got taken down, but I’m sure a small amount of die-hard Logan Stone fans still think I’m that person. The person in the photo, holding pills.”
“Like you said, some people will always misunderstand things.”
He nods. “Yes. But I get to share my truth, too. I’m not going to post in response to that photo, but… I’m going to say something. About my past.”
I sit down with Chase over breakfast and he drafts out his next Instagram post.
In the days since my photoshoot went out, he’s been gaining tons of new followers, and I know this will be seen more than anything he’s ever posted.
A few hours later, he publishes it.
It’s a photo of him with his glasses on, hard at work while he lays a brushstroke onto an abstract painting.
The caption is simple.
Art has found me, over and over again, at the times in my life when I held the most anger, or pain, or isolation.
Sobriety, on the other hand, found me slowly. It’s taken years to get to where I am now, anywhere I feel like I have a voice in my own life, and the ability to choose how I want to spend it. In the past, I felt powerless. I no longer feel that way.
I’d be nowhere without the people who surround me. All proceeds from my photoshoot with Logan Stone will be donated to a mental health and addiction crisis center at the end of this month.
Thank you, to my new followers and friends.
I won’t let you down. And I can’t wait to share my art with you.
Chase Cameron
The second time I ever see Chase cry is after he posts it.
But it’s nothing like the way he looked when he was breaking down in the corner of his studio. This time, when a tear falls from his eye, he’s smiling at the same time.
He turns to me, wraps his arms around me, and exhales.
“There. It’s out in the world.”
I squeeze him close. “And the world’s not even close to ready for everything you have to offer it.”
He hums against me. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Maybe we should give ‘em full spread-ass shots next, huh?”
I puff out a laugh and he starts laughing too, both of us collapsing against each other’s bodies. “The fun thing about you is never knowing whether you’re serious about that. You want my hole all over the internet?”
